And Then You'd Forget It
by RubyBelle
Summary: Oh, really? Axel thinks? Golly, I should write this down.


"Axel."

The word was odd; it hung in the air, floating around like up-churned dust, just kind of levitating in one spot until gravity brought it down to the floor, where it'd disappear until everyone in the room forgot it.

The redhead in question grunted, not bothering to remove the book from his face. He already knew who'd called his name, and it was pointless to move when he already knew the next few lines.

_You can't keep sulking._

"You can't keep sulking."

_It's a waste of time._

"It's a waste of time."

_Now get up and be the cocky Axel I know you are._

"Now get up and be the confident Axel I know you are."

Axel frowned a little. Off by one word, but, then again, when had one word ever made a difference in his life? He grunted again courteously, thinking he was being polite, what with him even bothering to show that he'd registered the words.

_I'm serious_.

Unexpectedly, the book came flying off of his face. He heard it crashing into a wall and then falling to the floor, but he didn't dare show emotion.

Damn. Off by _two_ words.

Axel looked down, or, rather, forwards, depending on how you were standing and which way you want to argue the blond-headed boy was standing. But, since, I suppose, he had to look out of the bottom of his eyes, glancing so far down that it gave him a headache, I would say that he looked down. Anyway, I digress. He stared at the other person in the room, looking down or up or forward or even backwards.

Roxas stared back at him, a frown on his face, but since he could never pull off any form of frown with the adorable face he had, it came out more of a pout. A very angry pout.

"I never knew you'd be such a pussy," Roxas said, speaking soft but the words coming out loud, the sound waves going insane inside of the small library, echoing and whatnot. "Figured the famous 'Flurry of Dancing Flames' would be a tad bit braver than the ordinary household _sponge_."

Axel grinned a little, closing his eyes. " 'Sponge'? I'm proud of you." He grinned wider as he spoke, his voice mocking with a large slice of sarcasm on the side."

Roxas almost smiled, but didn't. "What do you _do_ in here all day, anyway?"

Axel shrugged. "Read."

"I just found you with a book on your face."

"I have bad eyesight."

"A book on your face," Roxas repeated.

Axel grinned again, wider. "Really wanna know?" he asked, his voice sardonic. "I jerk off."

"I'm proud of you."

"Why thank you, kind sir."

Roxas sighed, unfolding his arms and throwing himself on the couch beside Axel. A smile was on his face. He could never be mad at Axel for long, and even if he was pissed off beyond belief, that idiot always made him smile.

"Always figured Larxene would be the one spending hours on end in here," Roxas muttered, looking around the room. So white, so bleak, so empty. Like everything else in the Town That Never Was. The books were all perfectly placed on the shelves, leather-binded, dusty. There was a thick scent in the air, but he could never pick up what it was exactly—sweet, always comforting and barely noticeable. You'd only realize it was there when you'd walk into the room after being gone for such a long time. You'd take a few deep breaths, then forget about it until your next visit.

"Yeah. I kicked her out," Axel replied, grinning a little wider, as if he was remembering a hilarious event. Roxas pursed his lips, wanting to ask but afraid to egg him on.

Roxas sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He didn't think. He didn't know _what_ to think. So he didn't. It wasn't that hard. Just stare at something until it starts moving, blink, and repeat. Soon, the only thing in your mind becomes the moving shape and how much your eyes sting from allowing them to stay open and unmoving for so long.

"I think."

Roxas blinked and stared at the body beside him. Nothing had changed, except the wide grin that had previously threatened to snap Axel's face into two. It was gone.

"Oh, really? Golly, I should write this down," Roxas said, making his voice more high-pitched than it needed to be.

"Seriously," Axel said, sighed. "I think about how fucked up my life is."

Roxas pursed his lips again, his tongue running over the sore spot on the inside of his lip, where he'd bitten it the other day and torn off the skin, leading him to continue messing with it and biting it, never allowing it to heal and just causing Roxas pain.

"The Organization, Nobodies, plots, ideas…" He sighed again. "It's really time-consuming."

Roxas still didn't say anything. Plots?

Axel didn't say anything, except for another sigh that blew out of his lips, mixing up the air around them. The sound stayed in Roxas' mind until it slowly faded away and he forgot about it.

"So, you just spend hours..._thinking_?" Roxas asked after a while of slightly awkward--on his part--silence.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"About... Er, never mind."

Axel grinned. "Very good."

Roxas sighed this time. "Can I hear one?"

"Thought?"

"Yeah."

Axel grinned wider. "There you go."

Roxas groaned, irritated at how he was smiling again. "Seriously."

Axel pursed his lips. "Why do Nobodies have no hearts?"

Roxas stared, confused.

"I mean, I know the workings of everything. A human loses his heart that ends up being consumed by the darkness, creating a Heartless. But, if that shell of a human has strong memories, or a strong will, whether it be good or bad, it is created into a Nobodies. Usually, they become lower rank ones, but if they're the lonely ones, the ones who just hang on to memories that will never come back, they retain human form. Like us.

"But, why are we classified with no 'hearts'? It's such a dumb usage. We can't feel _emotions_. Without a heart, we wouldn't be able to pump blood, we wouldn't be able to _live_. Besides, a heart has nothing to do with emotions. It's just a mindless organ, pumping our blood every second of every minute of our lives. Our brain is what sends out signals, sending our heart pumping faster or slower and sending out hormones, which cause us to get angry or sad or happy or whatever. Who say 'no heart'? It's more like we've lost our hypothalamus." Axel opened one emerald eye and glanced at Roxas, who was utterly confused at his last word. "That thing in the back of our brain that send out hormones and shit."

He closed his eyes again. "But, I suppose, whoever said we had no emotions was wrong. Like, right now. I'm pretty irritated about this entire thing, which is an emotion, right? Irritation? And, ever hear someone in the Organization say, 'I hate you'? There you go. Hate. Another very powerful emotion. I suppose, since everyone expects anything non-human to have no emotions and just be a dumb animal, we get written off as that.

"It's weird, isn't it? We can feel pain, emptiness, hate, irritation, but we're not allowed to love or feel happy? It seems like being a Nobody is being doomed to a life of emoness." Axel sighed, lifting his head off of the back of the couch and opening his eyes, blinking repeatedly to fend off the sudden onslaught of the lights and whiteness that was the library wall. "Whatever. That's what I do inside here."

Roxas smiled. "Never knew Axel could figure things out or think things through," he said, speaking his thoughts. "Always figured everything he did was irrational and impulsive, making him difficult to control and wild, just like his element."

"Fire," Axel said grinned, not missing a beat.

Roxas stood up, sighing and stretching his back. "Suppose we should be leaving now," he said, smiling at Axel. "I've got better things to do, and I'm not letting you learn any more big words."

Axel grinned wider, his face threatening to split again. "Hypothalamus, neurohormones, deincephalon," he said, his voice sarcastic and mocking again. "Aren't you so proud of me?"

Roxas smiled. "Whatever, geek."

"Idiot." Axel said, standing up himself.

Roxas laughed, punching him in the stomach.

Then the two pals left together, leaving behind the library, forgetting their conversation, the reason why Roxas was angry at Axel and everything else. Because, in the end, everything is doomed to be like the dust in the air, the scent of the library and the sound of a sigh in a silent room. You think about it and only it, focusing on the sound or the sight or the scent until you forget about it. Everything is doomed to be obsessed over, then forgotten.

Unlike that sore on Roxas' lip. Those things never go away.

* * *

seriously. they never do. i have one right now. it's been there for a week. a **week**. D:


End file.
